The First Time
by Shelbecat
Summary: Seth looks back on all the "firsts" he and Ryan spent together.
1. Chapter 1

**Summary**: Seth looks back on all the "firsts" he and Ryan spent together.  
**Rating**: R  
**Disclaimer**: If I owned them I wouldn't have to write about them.  
**Author's Notes**: This is my first attempt at a slash fic (and I still maintain that "slash" is a terrible word to describe same sex relationships), one that will most definitely not lead to NC-17 scenes.  It is very much my own story about choosing to love a person, not a gender.  I hope it translates.

**The First Time  
by Sherry  
  
Chapter 1**

Seth couldn't remember the first night he'd slept in Ryan's room.  To be fair, he'd been too drunk to know if his legs were still attached to his body, but still, when he looked back on it, he wished he could better remember the first time.

He remembered the second time though, and every time since then.

And he remembered the first time he'd slept in Ryan's bed.  It was late and they had been playing the XBox his parents had given Ryan for Christmas.  There had already been so many nights that he'd crashed on the new couch his Mom had installed that staying over really wasn't a request he had to make, rather just a couple of steps he had to take to his adopted bed.  And Ryan didn't seem to mind, in fact, Seth always thought he preferred the company.

So when _Need for Speed Underground _ran out of levels and they were both too exhausted to do anything besides close their eyelids against the still racing stream of stock cars painting their minds, it just seemed unnecessary for Seth to take even those few short steps to the couch when there was a perfectly good mattress beneath him.

"Mmph," he groaned, squishing his face into his pillow.  "Light… bright."

"Mmph," Ryan mumbled in reply, his own eyes shielded from the torture device as he lay on his back with his arm thrown across his face.

"Make it go away."

"You."

Seth stuck his arms out and clapped his hands together sharply.

"Didn't work."

Ryan let a small laugh escape.  "You think I've got the clapper?"

Seth shrugged, or at least he thought he did, his body was starting to feel numb from limbs crying for much needed rest.  "Mom bought… kitchen sink…"

Ryan shook his head as he threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.  "She did not buy me everything but the kitchen sink."  His hand slapped against the light switch, sending the room into relieving darkness, the bed bathed only by the moonlight bouncing off the pool and filtering into the many-windowed room.

He took a moment to let his eyes adjust to the shadows, blinking as the prone form on his bed came into focus.  Seth had spent two of the last three weekends crashing on his couch and he'd come to expect that his highly prized privacy would be non-existent for that period between Friday right after school and Sunday just before Alias.  But now the kid was lying on his bed, eyes closed as he let the muddled navy of two AM be his only blanket.

Ryan smiled as he realized he would be the one sleeping on the couch this night before picking his way through the discarded bags of Doritos and marshmallows—a snack he'd watched Seth devour with more than a little disgust while he stuck to his old faithful, plain chips with onion dip.

"I'll have you know…"  Ryan flopped heavily onto the bed, earning a low groan from Seth as his stomach objected to the unnecessary turbulence.  "She actually wanted to put a sink in here.  I told her not to bother."

"You did?  Fascinating."

"Yeah, she was going to put it right beside the mini-fridge I'm having installed."

"Lucky bastard… soda… handy…"

Wide blue eyes stared at drooping brown.  "It'll be right beside the full service bar."

Ryan smiled as he saw Seth struggle to process that fact, unseen eyes flickering beneath now shuttered lids.  He could tell the exact moment the sleepy boy gave up to just agree with whatever sense he was trying to make.

"That… cool."

"Yeah, she thinks I should take up hard liquor."

"I concur."

Seth's chest rose slowly as he took a deep breath then collapsed as he buried his face further into the pillow.

"You aren't going to get up, are you?"

"Too… comfy."

Ryan smiled.  "Go to sleep."

"M'nite."

Sitting up to move onto the couch, Ryan paused and glanced over his shoulder at his curly-haired companion.  He was lying so far over to the right side it didn't seem that he'd even know Ryan was there if he hugged the opposite edge.

Deciding that his mattress was the more comfortable choice even if Kirsten had shelled out a couple of thousand for the sofa, he removed the blanket that was folded across the foot of the bed and shook it out gingerly.  Lying back beside the now lightly snoring Seth, Ryan pulled the blanket up to cover both of them.

"Good night Seth."

He smiled as Seth curled tightly beneath the covers and then he moved over as far as possible.

When Seth woke up, the sun was still hours from making an appearance and he was no longer lying safely on his own side of the bed.  Ryan lay on his back beside him, Seth's right arm outstretched across his chest.  He smiled as closed his eyes, careful not to move as he said a silent thank you for not missing this first as well.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The first night in his room, the first in his bed, they seemed like such inconsequential moments when he looked at the larger picture now.  Once, Seth had sworn that time traveled a different spectrum for him and Ryan.  Ryan disagreed of course, telling him that 'time stopped for no man' or some other just as ridiculous saying that he never seemed to run out of.  Seth always found his spouting of famous quotations incongruous with the hardened exterior he displayed so proudly and even now, after time had settled back into the normal dimension it had probably always resided in, he thought that Ryan must have forgotten he was supposed to be difficult during those precious moments when he spoke as if he wasn't afraid of being judged.

That he knew Seth would never judge him always escaped the other boy, the meaning behind anything monumental that could be attributed to Ryan a mystery Seth swore he would never be privileged to learn.

He never realized that it was his very existence that unlocked Ryan's secrets.

And Ryan only smiled every time Seth asked him to share.

He knew why Seth asked, the scrap book of moments that was supposed to be kept locked in memories so obviously visible as the boy begged him to retell the first day they'd met, the first time they'd fought.  Why his versions were so important he could never figure out since it was Seth's accounts that were probably more accurate, or at the very least more entertaining, but he did remember every one of the firsts, and treasured them just as much.

The first night they'd shared a room—he remembered that one more clearly than Seth and he knew it would always be a sore spot.  The first night they'd shared a bed was another he had a sharper picture of.  He tried to tell Seth that he needed to start one of his desired "firsts" when he wasn't about to collapse from exhaustion but the boy never listened, always driving himself to complete fatigue before beginning one of the monumental moments that would become so important once he'd missed it.

Except he didn't miss all of them.  He didn't miss the first time they touched.

Seth reluctantly had to admit that the first time they touched was probably while they were playing video games on Ryan's first morning here, or perhaps it was that first afternoon when he'd taken Ryan out on his boat.  It didn't matter that the _actual first had come and gone without the desired pomp and circumstance, the first Seth was more concerned with was the one where Ryan touched him—on his own, without prompting, the gesture meant to bring two bodies closer rather than a casual, accidental brush._

He remembered that first; it happened the night his grandfather died.

Seth couldn't see.  His face was wet, streams of some liquid coursing like thick honey into his eyes; clouding all vision.  He stumbled as he caught the edge of a random pool chair, the marble floor rising up to meet him like the swift punch he always imagined a hit to the gut would be.  His hands scuffed along the rough surface, his knees colliding heavily behind him as he pushed upwards again, tripping over untied laces to continue his desperate trek.

He could see Ryan lying on his bed through the enclosed glass pool house.  The television painted his face with soft blues and greens, the flicker of fluid images bringing life and motion to an otherwise stoic demeanor.  Seth hesitated before destroying the peaceful scene, unwilling to unload his troubles onto the boy who'd already had more than his share when he saw Ryan's head tip in his direction and knew running away would suddenly be the worse option.

He opened the door, standing in the sucking void splitting his sadistic world from the serene scene inside.

Ryan moved up onto his elbow, giving Seth a look that questioned what possible end to the world could have occurred to spawn this particular fit of hysterics.  His face was mottled, his eyes puffy, all signs that pointed to the cancellation of the new season of Star Trek or some other such catastrophic event and Ryan was about to lie back down without even acknowledging him when he saw the tears staining his cheeks and with a sudden twinge of his stomach, knew that this wasn't a test.

Wordlessly, he swung his feet over the side of the bed, crossing the distance separating the two boys.  Seth was still standing outside, a chilled breeze sending shivers he didn't even notice quaking through his body.  Ryan reached out to pull him inside, wincing when he saw the bloodied scraps of flesh hanging from the boy's hands.

He closed the door quickly behind him, moving behind Seth to push him toward the bed.  His movements were determined, forcing the other boy to sit, then striding away to grab the small first aid kit Kirsten had stocked in his bathroom.  He returned in a breath, dropping to his knees at Seth's feet before shooting a questioning glance into the boy's eyes and reaching out for his hands once again.

"What did you do?"

Ryan's voice was hushed, almost hesitant to break the bubble of Seth's obvious anguish.  He heard him hiccup an incomprehensible response and flicked his eyes up to meet the other's quickly.

Seth blinked at the intrusion, wondering why he'd never before noticed that Ryan's eyes had the ability to draw you in until you swore you would drown in the cobalt mine they housed.  He tried to swallow, fighting to disentangle his tongue from where it had adhered to the roof of his mouth.  Instead his body shook, his throat constricting until he remembered he still had to breathe and inhaled shakily.

"He's dead."

A shadow filtered across Ryan's eyes and Seth wondered if he didn't expect the deceased to be his own family member.

"My grandfather… he… he died."

"Caleb?"

Seth shook his head back and forth.

"Not Caleb?"

Ryan's voice was hesitant, his hold on Seth's bleeding fingers forgotten as he searched the distraught face for some hint of what had actually happened.

"My Dad's Dad… my Grandpa Cohen.  I… I never met him."

"You never…"

Ryan was puzzled—Seth didn't know this mystery grandfather that he had never even known existed but yet he was this upset over his loss?  Suddenly Ryan realized that not having known someone didn't mean you wouldn't morn their death, especially when it meant that now you would never have the chance.

"You never met him."

His voice was quiet as he waited for Seth's slight nod of acknowledgment.

"I'm sorry."

"You d-d-didn't…"

Ryan shook his head, stopping the words Seth felt a misplaced need to say.

"It doesn't matter if I didn't cause it, he was your grandfather, _that_ matters."

Tears Seth swore he never invited crept into his eyes again, his left hand smearing blood and dirt across his face as he slapped them away.  He couldn't believe he was crying in front of Ryan, it was bad enough that he'd let the acid rain pour forth when his Dad had told him the news, but to showcase his already painfully obvious lack of even one gene contributing to coolness was an embarrassment he couldn't expect to live down.

"Dude, I'm…"

Ryan didn't speak, instead just held out his hand for the flailing appendage, demanding without any command that Seth give himself over to the help he offered.

He obliged, wiping once more with the back of his hand to spread the blood onto that surface as well before dropping his hand to his lap and watching as Ryan flipped it over the examine the wounds.  The tsk-ing sound he swore passed Ryan's lips was surprising but he found himself fascinated by the attention the boy paid to each and every scrape.  Water cleaned the worst of the mess, the rest a mingle of hanging skin and very minor scratches.  It still hurt though, like the piecing of a thousand needles attacking each and every nerve ending but Seth fought to be brave, even managing what he thought was a smile when Ryan poured peroxide on the minefield that was once his future as an XBox champion.

"It's not too bad," Ryan finally offered when he had finished wrapping both palms in strips of blinding white gauze.  "It'll sting for a bit."

"It doesn't hurt."

Seth dropped his head between his shoulders, his hands hanging uselessly between his legs.

Ryan laughed as he stood and gathered the first aid supplies.  "Yeah it does."

Seth's head popped up to stare at his friend now towering over him, his mouth dropping open to protest when he remembered that if anyone knew how much it hurt to have a zillion cuts and scrapes on your body it would be Ryan and stopped.

"Okay, it does, but it doesn't matter."

Ryan sighed as he walked over to the ledge behind his bed and dropped the supplies.  "I thought we agreed it did."

When Seth looked at him blankly, he smiled and slowly took a seat beside the bewildered boy.

"Matter," he added softly.

Seth bloodied the clean bandage by wiping it in the stain still left on his cheek.  He stared at the imperfection marring Ryan's handiwork, wondering how it was possible to say no more than 10 words to a person and yet have them understand you completely.

"I… uh…"  He picked at the edge of the bandage against his wrist, his eyes darting anywhere but at the figure beside him.  "Thanks for… thanks."

Ryan clapped Seth on the shoulder as he stood abruptly from the bed.  "Why don't you get some sleep?"

Seth looked up at the sudden change in subject, hesitating before pushing his knuckles into his knees and moving to get up.

"No, here… you can sleep here."

"Oh, I…"  Seth found Ryan's eyes across the room.  "I don't have to."

Ryan shrugged.  "It's okay, I could use the company."

Seth nodded, telling himself that he was too tired to argue with such sound logic while his mind screamed that he was getting what he wanted anyway.  Walking back into his house, watching his mother comfort his father while neither of them thought he should be upset at all by the death of someone none of them knew… this was most definitely the best offer he had on the table.

Kicking his shoes from his feet, he lay down where he was sitting, drawing his hands into his chest as his knees curled up beneath his body.  He shivered in the sudden coolness in the air, about to wonder if he possessed the energy to find a blanket when he felt a hand brush against his arm and looked up to see Ryan pulling a quilt across his shoulders.

Ryan watched the brown orbs stare up at him, his stomach flipping over for the tenth time that night as he watched his best friend fight not to let his entire universe dissolve around him.  It was a death in the family, not exactly end of the world material if you were Ryan Atwood but for Seth, for the boy that had never known what it was like to lose someone he loved, Ryan knew this had the potential to be life-altering.  His bouncing back from this to be the same un-jaded kid Ryan so needed in his life was critical, to them both, and he had no intention of losing the Seth he treasured.

"Get some sleep.  It'll feel better tomorrow."

Seth closed his eyes in agreement then popped them open to see Ryan continuing to stare down at him.

"Will it?" he whispered.

Ryan smiled.  "No, but it won't hurt quite as bad."

Seth nodded.  He could handle that, anything not hurting as bad as it did now was a good thing.  He pushed his head into the pillow, glad when the light suddenly disappeared from the room.  Ryan was moving somewhere at the foot of the bed, probably getting back to watching TV or whatever other thing he had been doing when Seth rudely destroyed his evening.

An angry seed of guilt churned in his stomach and he was about to sit up and apologize for being once again blind to whatever it was Ryan needed from their relationship when the bed shifted and he froze.  The soft click he heard next was surely the television disappearing into darkness; the muffled movement was definitely Ryan slithering into place behind him.

As if the emotions of the evening weren't enough for the tortured boy, now he felt shame at feeling guilty over feeling sad that he was angry—he didn't know why Ryan put up with him.  His body convulsed as a repressed sob pushed its way upwards.  His shoulders shaking as the volcano of despair erupted from within, hot tears of lava dripping down his face.

In the darkened room, with only the light from the main house bouncing off the glass, Ryan stared at the quaking back of the boy beside him.  The ability to smooth things over, to ease fears by averting the focus—these were things Ryan was good at.  Offering comfort to someone who found themselves standing at the precipice of their world wasn't something he knew how to do.  Watching Seth cry, he felt his heart constrict just a little tighter as he did the only thing he could think of—he reached out and touched him.

The hand lying flat against his back, the instant heat of emotional contact sparking through his shirt, Seth stiffened beneath the gesture, then instinctively relaxed into it.  The maelstrom of misunderstanding spinning within him was suddenly calmed, the need to wallow in what was obviously a situation he had no control over taken away as he felt the soothing touch of his savior tying him to this reality.

Seth snaked his left hand up over his right, reaching around his body to seek out Ryan's fingers.  He found them lying where he suspected against his shoulder and latched onto them, pulling the hand within his grasp as he moved just slightly backwards on the bed.  His breath caught as he wondered if this was totally inappropriate, if he wasn't misreading all the signs that told him this was what they both wanted, when he felt the shift of Ryan's body towards his and lost it.

His body quivering like a leaf tossed about in the wildest California rain storm, Seth cried until his body was drained of tears then pulled on his deepest reserve and cried some more.  And Ryan held him.  All night, as the moon moved across the sky and the sun eventually crept its way back into their world, Ryan cradled the weeping child in his arms.

When Seth finally awoke to daylight painting the glass-enclosed room, Ryan was still behind him, arm wrapped securely around his middle, and through the tears dried on his cheeks, he smiled as he realized they had just hit on another first.

_TBC..._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Remembering all the firsts they'd had, Seth found it hard to place which was the most important.  He knew there was an obvious choice for the award but he always hesitated to choose that one, as if everyone in the world had the same most important first in their life and he wanted his, theirs, to be more special.

He'd often asked Ryan to help him choose.

"I don't know, why?"

Ryan didn't see the importance of cataloging such esteemed events.

"I just want to know.  Which?"

Here he always sighed.  "I don't know, maybe… maybe the first day I came to your house."

"Why?"

Ryan always hated the 'why' response.  And he'd roll his eyes as he responded.  "Because if I never came, we'd never have met."

"Is that it?"

Now he'd usually put down whatever he was doing and give Seth the patented, extended stare.  Every time Seth thought he'd made him angry, and every time Ryan's voice softened even further as he responded.

"That's enough."

And it was enough, for Ryan, but Seth still needed something more, something bigger, something beyond the first night in his room, in his bed, touching, kissing… well he supposed kissing was a pretty big one, especially when he remembered it the way they'd done it.

Lips—so simple, so common, so used in the daily grind of existence; when Seth tried to think of where his life would be without the effect Ryan's lips had made on his world, he always had to give up before he could capture the scenario.  Any idea that saw him not in the place he stood now just seemed torturous in comparison.

And it wasn't just their obvious power, it was everything orally-related—the words he spoke, the songs he sung, when Seth was lucky enough to hear them that was, usually after creeping into the bathroom when Ryan thought he had already left for work.  It was his voice, his smile, everything and all things he chose to express with lips Seth never deemed himself deserving of, including Seth's favorite—the kiss.

It had been another night in the pool house, all of the important nights seemed to happen in the pool house, and Seth was once again lying on Ryan's bed, trying to wait out the sleep he knew would overtake them both so he could drop his head onto the pillow without having to seem overly wanting of the space.

Ryan was sitting near the windows at the foot of the bed, fiddling with a new pocket knife he'd saved up his wages from The Crab Shack to buy.  Seth watched as he popped the blade out, running his thumb along the glinting silver then snapped it back in sharply.  Seth thought it was dangerous, daring, and he couldn't take his eyes off Ryan's fingers.

Open, shut, open, shut, the rhythmic flipping of the red Swiss Army casing against his palm as the silver streak shot out and in, over and over.  Seth was entranced, and he was feeling a little hot.

Coughing loudly, he rolled over to flop in what he hoped was a pathetic looking position and sighed.

"I'm beat."

Ryan shrugged, slapping his hand against the blunt edge of the blade to send it slamming back into the holder.  "Go to sleep."

Seth tipped his head to watch the other carefully, searching for any sign that he was interested in a night of sharing a bed.  Ryan gave him nothing, instead pulling out the miniscule scissors nestled in the back of the knife and twirling the whole contraption around in his hand.

Seth frowned and pushed himself up off the bed.  "Okay then, 'nite."

That got Ryan's attention, his head snapping up at the announced exit, wondering if Seth had finally decided to go get his own pillow before returning to sleep in the bed he seemed to love so much.  As soon as he saw the dejected slump in the other's shoulders he knew he'd been that thing that Seth hated again, _distant he remembered Seth saying once, and sighed loudly as he stood._

"You don't have to leave."

Seth stopped at the door, one hand already on the handle, and stared at Ryan's reflection in the glass.  "Do you want me to stay?"

Ryan shrugged, again.  Damn it, he wanted him to say it.  "I don't care."

It was supposed to sound nonchalant, off-hand, like it didn't matter one way or the other whether he slept alone or crawled in beside the boy who'd become his almost constant companion.  Instead it came out sounding forced, like 'I don't care' really was the way he felt.  He'd hoped that Seth would know the difference by now.

"Seth…"

His voice was low, too low, and he panicked as he thought Seth didn't hear him.

He did.  Seth had watched the whole unspoken scene play out on Ryan's face, the boy who concealed his secrets so brilliantly useless at hiding his emotions.  He knew he was allowed to stay, he always knew he could stay, the bigger question was why he was wanted… and why he wanted to himself.

"You don't care."

It was a statement but as Seth turned to face him, Ryan knew he was still expected to answer.

"I don't… I…"  Ryan stammered as he reached for the comfort of his knife and twirled it across his knuckles.  "You know you can always stay."

It was a weak reply, Ryan knew it and as he watched Seth's lips purse into the trademark pout of one who didn't understand, he knew he'd be hearing exactly how ridiculous not saying the real reason was.

"You know, Ryan," Seth started slowly, gesturing towards his friend as he paced three quick steps towards the bed then stopped with his hand on his chin.  "If I was a smarter guy or, let's face it, if I was even one iota anywhere close to being considered cool, I'd be worried that what I'm about to say, and bear with me here because this is going to be, like… epic, I'd worry that it would cement my nomination as 'biggest turd in the world', but since I'm not, and this may or may not be a good thing, I'm just going to come right out and say it.  What are we doing?"

Ryan stared at Seth, his expression exactly the same as it had been before the prattling began.  He should have been moving, blinking, breathing at least.

Seth wondered if he hadn't had a stroke.

"Ryan?"

Now Ryan blinked, slowly, twice, then again, then swallowed and tucked his knife back into his pocket.  "That's what you have to say?  'What are we doing?'"

"I think it has many interpretations."

Ryan blushed.

Seth swore he'd never seen Ryan blush.

Ryan had to turn away, push his attention to something, anything not Seth Cohen-related.  He didn't have a problem with Seth sleeping in his bed, it wasn't as if he'd actually forced him to fall asleep; he didn't even have a problem with Seth needing to be held, he wasn't the one who'd asked for comfort, it was all the kid.  But if Seth expected Ryan to talk about it…

Ryan looked up to see a surprisingly stoic Seth waiting for an answer.

Ah hell, who was he kidding, he wanted Seth to spend every night in his bed, practically begged him with his eyes each time he stepped for the door.  And the holding had never been something Seth initiated, that had been all Ryan.  If Seth wanted to talk about it, Ryan could at least give him an answer.

"I don't know."

"You don't know.  Great Ryan, super."

"Well, what do you want me to do?  Give you a historical account of all the nights you've spent in here and the socio-economic implications of each?"

Seth frowned as he shifted on his feet.  "The emotional effect would do."

Ryan rocked back on his heels, his hands diving deep into his pockets for some lost sense of balance.

"I don't know how to explain it."  Ryan looked up at Seth through narrowed eyes.  "I just want it."

"I do too."  Seth's voice was hoarse.  "But I need to understand it."

"Why?"

Seth burst.  "Because it's weird!  It's weird that I come out here every day and don't want to leave until an hour past when I'm supposed to and I never, ever even once check my watch because I don't want to know how little time we have left and I can't even begin to explain that stupid thing my stomach does where I swear I'm going to puke, seriously dude, and then I don't and I think that makes it even worse."

Seth panted as he stared at Ryan's fast-widening eyes.

"Can you tell me why I feel this way?  Can you tell me why I didn't feel the same way about Summer, or Anna, or Christy fucking Turlington?"

"You like Christy Turlington?"

"Have you seen the Victoria's Secret fashion show Ryan, have you?  Christy fucking Turlington."

"Okay fine, but just because they don't do it for you…"

"Do they do it for you?"

"Who?  Summer and Anna?"

"No, anyone, Marissa?"

"Marissa was a long time ago."

"I know, but what about Miranda Stevens, or Katie Adams, or Christy fucking…"

"Could you stop saying fucking?"

"Fine, but you're going to have to say it for me because this situation definitely calls for fucking."

Ryan stopped, watched Seth turn the color of a tomato, then burst out laughing.

It took Seth a moment longer, his ears burning as embarrassment flooded his face, but he tentatively joined in Ryan's laughter, starting slowly, then increasing, until he was doubled over with his arm across his stomach and the roar echoing through the room was deafening.

"Oh God, oh dude… I didn't mean…"  Seth gasped as he rolled himself onto the bed and tipped back to lie down.  His stomach convulsed as his giggles continued unabated.

Ryan collapsed beside him, his hand wiping tears from his eyes as he watched Seth fight to regain control of his body.

"Don't apologize, that was…" Ryan stopped to catch his breath.  "That was… fitting."

Seth cried as the last chuckles escaped.  "Fitting maybe but oh man… embarrassing."

"Nah, don't apologize.  Broke the tension anyway."

His lingering smiled faded as Seth pushed himself back into a sitting position so that his shoulder rested a hair's breadth away from Ryan.  "We had tension?"

Ryan lost his smile and shrugged.

"That's a first."

Seth chewed his bottom lip as wished his peripheral vision were better and struggled to see Ryan's expression.  He rubbed his hands along his thighs trying to spark the courage to repeat his question when Ryan stopped him.

"I think we're just doing what feels right."

Seth decided that staying quiet, for once, was the better choice.

"I mean, it's like, this place, the pool house, it's cool and everything and it feels like ours, or mine, but you're always here… whatever."

Seth nodded sagely as if Ryan had just said something very important.  He didn't have a sweet clue what it was supposed to mean.

"And it's good and it's comfortable, but when I think about leaving, about college, a job, it feels weird that we won't still have a place, like it's sort of wrong somehow."

This new information made a little more sense but Seth still couldn't put the pieces together.

"So when I think about not being here, about being somewhere else, with a life, and all the shit and stuff, I think… I think about being there with you."

Suddenly everything clicked.

"You mean, like, together?"

Ryan shrugged and bowed his head further towards his chest.  His voice was quiet when he spoke.  "Yeah, together."

"Duuude."  Seth's voice came out like a low whistle.  "Does that mean, like, do you… d-do you think we're g-g-gay?"

Ryan snapped his eyes open, not brave enough to raise his head.

"What?"

Shit, he was going to make him repeat it.

"I said…"

"I heard what you said."

Seth couldn't remember if he was supposed to inhale or exhale to get oxygen, his lungs screaming as he chose the wrong option and sat still next to Ryan, afraid to even blink.

Ryan coughed and ran a hand through already wild hair.  "But that's crazy right?"  He dared a sideways glance at his companion.

Seth nodded eagerly.  "Crazy."

Ryan whispered, "Yeah crazy."

He stared back down at his hands clutched in fists between his legs.  Seth was sitting so close to him, the warmth from his body radiated out and scorched the sides of Ryan's arm yet the distance between them yawned like the Grand Canyon, insurmountable unless you were willing to risk it all and just jump.

Ryan jumped.

Sitting up, he raised his hand and reached out towards Seth's face, never hesitating even when the boy eyed him warily and seemed to wonder what the hell he thought he was doing.  Ryan persisted, there was no safety net to catch him as he fell but he hoped, he prayed, that Seth would be there waiting for him at the bottom.

Lips met in a crushing vice, pushing against the other as two who knew nothing about what they were supposed to feel tried to figure it out together, testing, teasing, tongues darting out tentatively to seek permission.  Ryan pulled his hand along Seth's neck, Seth sought comfort in the fabric of Ryan's shirt.  They moaned and hissed, fighting for air as neither wished to pull away first until finally, spent, Seth leaned back and rested his forehead against Ryan's.

He licked his lips to the taste of Ryan glistening on their surface.

"That was a first."

Ryan panted as he stared down at Seth's lowered eyes, the flush spreading across the boy's cheeks surely matched by his own complete lack of control.

"It was a good first?"

Seth moved away to find Ryan's eyes, searching for the answer he wanted to speak.  "Oh God, yes."

Ryan smiled then and Seth knew he would forever and always be in love with those lips.

It was destined, Seth decided much later, Ryan's arrest, his abandonment, his arrest… again, his return…it could only be attributed to fate and when Seth arrived at this conclusion, he spent a whole day saying thank you to whatever spirit 'Fate' happened to be.

Glancing over at Ryan crouched on their kitchen floor, tools spread all around him that Seth couldn't name let alone use, he smiled as he tucked away the scrapbook of memories he had so carefully crafted from every monumental first they'd shared.  He didn't like to take it out often, usually reserved it for special occasions so it would keep its shine, but sometimes he let himself cheat a little, delving in when he just wanted to remember how lucky he was to find the person he was born for right in his very own house.

Their love, their life, no matter how many seconds, thirds and fourths they shared, would always be based on firsts—Ryan was the first person Seth had ever loved and as he caught his partner's eye and knelt down to hand him what was most definitely going to be the wrong tool, he smiled as he realized _that_ was the most important first of all.

_The End_


End file.
